


Night Train-The Missing Scene

by 852_Prospect_Archivist



Category: The Sentinel
Genre: Episode Related, M/M, b/d
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-05-10
Updated: 2013-05-10
Packaged: 2017-12-11 06:20:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,752
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/794845
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/852_Prospect_Archivist/pseuds/852_Prospect_Archivist
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After their adventures escourting a prisoner on the train, Jim becomes obsessed with Blair's ability to escape from handcuffs.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Night Train-The Missing Scene

This is a story from the same Universe, and around the same time of my two stories, NIGHTMARES, and NIGHTMARES II: BEFORE AND AFTER. You might want to read them first, because the references made to the character called "Lash" will make more sense then, as will seeing the episode "Cypher." But you don't have to if plot isn't that important to you. :-) 

Disclaimer: The Sentinel and its characters belong to Pet Fly Productions. No money changed hands here, this is just for fun. No infringement on copyright is intended. This is way shorter and more boring than my old disclaimer. 

## Night Train:The Missing Scene

by MegaRed  


Jim hung up his coat, and breathed easily for the first time in days. Thank God that stupid cold had finally gone away! Between the cold itself and his adverse reaction to the medicine he'd taken, plus the sticky situation he'd just gone through on the train, he was beat. He and Sandburg had just spent the entire day at the precinct doing paperwork and debriefing, and now he was ready to spend a long, quiet evening with his lover. It would feel good to get some sleep tonight. _If I can GET any sleep!_ he thought with a grin as Blair came up behind him to slip his arms around Jim's waist. Jim sighed as the arms squeezed him, and he heard Blair's voice, muffled as his young love pressed his face into Jim's back. 

"Man, you scared the hell out of me last night," Blair said softly, rubbing his cheek against the soft fabric of Jim's shirt. "I thought for sure you were dead when those guys chucked you off the train!" Blair had fully believed, inside, that his big lover was gone when the two thugs were handcuffing him and Isabelle to the bench on the train. But he hadn't told this to Isabelle. He hadn't wanted to upset her any further. Plus, he realized now, he'd also been trying to delude himself. The idea that he had lost the man he loved so soon after finding him was just... too much. 

Jim chuckled as he turned in the circle of his Guide's arms to smile gently at him. He reached a hand up to cup Blair's chin, thumb softly caressing his cheek. The blue eyes were a little misty, he noticed, and a jolt of love shot straight through his heart. "I'm sorry Chief, " Jim said lovingly, "I can't imagine what it must have been like for you, to think...," He broke off suddenly, looking thoughtful. "Actually," he continued, reaching to frame Blair's face in his big hands, "I know exactly what it was like, because I know how I'd feel if I thought I had lost you." Jim ended his speech with a soft kiss to Blair's brow. When he pulled back, Blair was smiling. 

"Can you believe how long we'd been working together before we figured this out?" Blair asked, chuckling as he reached up to wrap his arms around Jim's neck. "I mean, I think I knew it the first time I met you. That I was going to fall in love with you, I mean," Blair pressed his lips to Jim's. 

Jim returned the kiss, reaching down to slip his arms around his Guide's slim waist. "Well, I have to confess, Chief, it took a little longer for me," Jim pulled Blair tight against his body in a hug, nuzzling his nose in Blair's curly hair. "I didn't realize what you'd come to mean to me until Lash kidnapped you." Jim felt Blair stiffen a little at the mention of that name, the name of the psychopath that had almost killed him. Jim tightened his hold around Blair, rubbing a soothing hand over his back. "I'm sorry, I know you hate that name. But he was the reason I fell in love with you." Jim remembered how he had stood over his friend, unconscious in Lash's dentist chair, desperately breathing air into his lungs. The mouth-to-mouth had taken on a romantic turn, and Jim had surprised himself by suddenly pressing his lips to Blair's in a short, chaste kiss. He smiled now, at the memory of that kiss, at the way everything had suddenly become as clear as glass to him with that tiny touching of skin. Yes, Jim thought, there weren't many people in the world who could say with certainty the exact moment they'd fallen in love with someone. But he could. 

Blair rubbed his face into Jim's chest, still smelling the scent of oil and other train fluids the detective had picked up during his little ride under the train. He pulled back to look up at his lover. "Hey," he said, poking Jim in the chest. "Why don't you go change your shirt, and then we can... celebrate... the successful wrap-up of this case." As he said the word 'celebrate', Blair rubbed his hips against Jim's thighs, raising an eyebrow. 

Jim smiled. Blair was something else. "OK Chief," he said, turning to go change. Then he paused, remembering something he'd wanted to ask Blair. "Hey, I was wondering, how did you manage to get out of those handcuffs?" Jim put his hands on his hips, and Blair began to laugh. 

"My Swiss Army Knife, man!" he said, digging into his pocket and proudly brandishing the knife. "The little leather punch tool? Perfect for picking the lock on handcuffs!" He smiled up at Jim, who looked skeptical. 

"You're kidding," Jim said. "Wait a minute." Jim reached into his back pocket and pulled out his handcuffs, then moved toward Blair. "Would you mind giving me a demonstration, Chief? Because if what you're saying is true, we may need to start making these things with better locks." Jim held up the cuffs. 

Blair grinned. "Sure man!" he said cheerfully. He looked around the room, and pointed to the kitchen table. "Here," he said, sitting down on the floor beside one of the table's heavy legs. "This would be about the same position I was in with Isabelle." Blair looked up as Jim snickered. "Get your mind out of the gutter, man!" laughed the anthropologist. "I told you she wasn't that great, didn't I?" 

Jim continued to chuckle as he knelt, and gently handcuffed Blair's left wrist to the table leg. "Yeah Chief, you did," Jim suddenly started laughing at something. He opened his mouth to speak, but then shook his head, still laughing. 

"What?" Blair giggled. 

Jim sighed. "Just thinking about a conversation I had with Isabelle right before my senses started to weird out on me," he said. "We were discussing whether or not it was proper for a lawyer and a cop to be engaged in friendly conversation." Jim began to laugh again as he recalled his reply to Isabelle. He looked down at Blair. "I said 'I arrest the bad guys, you do everything you can TO GET THEM OFF!' " Jim let the sentence hang, watching Blair's face. 

Blair stared at Jim for a moment, eyes wide. "You did NOT really say that!" he said, disbelieving. Jim rolled his eyes and nodded. Blair thought about it for a moment, then began to giggle. Then he began to laugh. Pretty soon he was howling, rolling back on the floor holding his side with his free hand, the other still chained to the table. 

Jim was in a similar state, more from watching his lover's reaction than from the actual story. He got to his feet, holding his stomach and wincing as the laughter began to take on painful proportions. He slowly got himself under control, as Blair did the same. 

"Oooh man," Blair gasped from the floor, tears running down his cheeks. "And she didn't say anything?" he asked in amazement. Jim shook his head, shrugging. Blair sighed, and sat back up, wiping the tears from his eyes. "Oh man, I'm glad I wasn't there when it happened; I would have pissed my pants." 

Jim chuckled at that, then gestured at the cuffs. "So let's see you in action, Chief, "Do what you did on the train." He stepped back and watched as Blair dug the Swiss Army Knife out of his pocket, opened up the leather punch, and set to work on the lock. Jim glanced at his watch, curious to see how long it would take Blair to get free. 

"Done!" Blair said, triumphantly brandishing the open cuffs. Jim stared. 

"That's incredible, Blair! You did that in less than thirty seconds!" Jim stared in disbelief at the grin on his love's beautiful lips, then at the cuffs dangling from his hand. The detective shook his head, suddenly feeling a little unsure about putting so much faith into the handcuffs he used nearly every day. If Blair could escape so easily, surely an experienced criminal could, too. 

Blair was folding up the knife to put it away, when Jim knelt beside him again. He glanced up as Jim took the knife from his grasp and examined it carefully. Then he met Blair's eyes. 

"Blair, would you say it's pretty easy to buy one of these?" Jim asked, holding up the knife. 

Blair nodded. "Yeah, man, anybody can buy one, I think." He studied the worried look on Jim's face. "What's wrong?" 

Jim looked at him, then shook his head. "I dunno Chief. Just wondering exactly how secure a criminal is when I slap these on him." Jim continued to eye the knife, then handed it back to Blair. He was about to stand up, when he had an idea. "Hey," he said, "Do you think you could get free with both hands cuffed?" Jim asked. 

Blair thought about it. "I think so," he said. 

Jim held out the cuffs. "Mind if we find out?" he asked. Blair shrugged and offered his wrists to his love again. Jim turned him to sit facing the table, then cuffed his wrists together around the leg. He slipped the knife into Blair's hand. "Hold on a sec, " Jim said, standing up and looking at his watch. When the second hand hit the twelve, he said "Start!" 

Blair flipped the leather punch tool out with one hand and began to maneuver it into the lock, leaning his shoulder against the table leg for support. He tossed his hair out of his eyes a few times as he worked. Jim stared, mesmerized by the deft movement of his Guide's graceful fingers. The long, slender digits seemed almost to dance as they worked over the lock. Jim was becoming so interested in Blair's hands that he nearly forgot to check the time as Blair clicked the cuffs open with a successful grunt. 

"Done!" Blair said. He smiled apologetically at the look of disbelief on Jim's face as he stared at his watch. "Sorry, Jim," he said, biting back a chuckle as Jim took the cuffs and the knife from his hands, shaking his head. 

"Wait until Simon hears about this," Jim muttered. He looked down at Blair, and chuckled. It really was sort of amusing, how easily Blair could defeat the restraints. "Guess I should start calling you Houdini, eh Chief?" Jim grinned as Blair tossed his hair out of his eyes and giggled. 

"Maybe so," Blair laughed, still seated on the floor. he reached up a hand for Jim to help him up, but the big detective held up his palm. 

"Hold on, one more test," he said. 

Blair groaned, "Oh man, get over it will you?" he smiled fondly up at his big lover. "It's not the end of the world, you know. I'm sure most of the bad guys you grab won't have a Swiss Army Knife." Blair was still speaking as Jim knelt beside him. 

"I know that, Blair, I just... one more?" Jim asked, calling up his own version of 'Puppy Dog Eyes'. "I mean," he added quietly, "I always let you run those sensory tests on me...," 

"Yeah, after you bitch and gripe for about an hour first," Blair interjected with a grin. He sighed at the look on Jim's face. "Oh all right," he sighed. "One more, but after that we're going to have sex, is that understood?" he bobbed his eyebrows at Jim, who burst out with a short laugh. 

"Well, nothing like being right up front, is there?" Jim asked, gently taking hold of Blair's shoulders to ease him down onto the floor. 

"I dunno," Blair replied as he lay back. "from behind is nice, too, you know." He grinned wickedly, then looked up as Jim took hold of his wrists. "What are we doing, by the way?" he arched his head back as Jim pulled his hands over his head and cuffed them around the table leg. 

"Well, I was thinking," Jim said as he fastened the cuffs. "These other times you've always been able to see what you were doing as you picked the lock, right?" 

"Right," Blair replied, looking back at his hands. 

"Well I want to see if you can do this without being able to see your hands," Jim continued. He sat back and studied his partner. Blair was flat on his back with his feet facing away from the table. The young man's arms were stretched back over his head, horizontal to the floor, and his wrists were chained securely to the table. "Are you comfortable?" Jim asked, leaning close to Blair's face. 

Blair smiled up at him. "Fine, big guy." There was a moment of silence then, and Blair just gazed into Jim's eyes for a minute. Jim leaned down closer and kissed him. 

"OK," Jim said, sitting back and looking at his watch. "On three, ready? One... two...," 

"Uh, Jim?" Blair said. 

Jim looked down at him. "What?" 

"Can I have the knife?" 

Jim looked down in surprise at the Swiss Army knife still clutched in his hand. "Oh!" he exclaimed. He grinned sheepishly as he slipped the knife into Blair's right hand. "Sorry about that. Guess you'll get free faster if you have this, eh?" 

Blair chuckled, "Probably," he waited as Jim looked at his watch again. When Jim gave him the 'Go' signal, Blair flipped out the leather punch tool again, and moved it around on the surface of the cuffs until the tool slipped into the lock. Right away, Blair knew this was going to be much more difficult. He hadn't realized how important it was to see what he was doing until he couldn't! 

Jim watched as the time crawled by. After one minute, he said, "Can't do it? We can stop if you want, Chief." 

Blair shook his head stubbornly. "No man, I can do this. I can do this," the smooth brow furrowed in concentration, and the tip of his tongue pushed out between his lips. "I think...," he added softly as Jim got to his feet. 

Jim stretched, and turned to head for the stairs up to his bedroom. "Well, I'll keep timing you, kid," he said. As he went up the stairs, he called down, "I'm gonna change my shirt. You give a yell when you get loose, OK?" 

"Sure," Blair muttered, struggling to feel his way into the lock. This was harder than he thought it would be. He thought he'd just about gotten the knife into the right position, and was just turning it in the lock, when it slipped from his grasp to clatter on the floor. "Oh great," Blair sighed. He arched his head back to see where the knife had ended up. He stretched his fingers toward it, and cursed softly as he accidentally knocked it further away. 

Jim smiled as his superior hearing picked up the expletive from his love. He finished changing his shirt, and just stood at the railing for a few minutes, watching his partner. He'd given up on timing Blair at this point; it was clear that the young man wasn't going to escape on his own. After another soft curse from the anthropologist, Jim decided he'd better turn his lover loose, before he got frustrated with himself. 

"Come ON," Blair whispered, straining harder toward the knife. He'd been trying to reach the instrument for about two minutes now, and his shoulders were becoming sore. He turned his head as Jim came to stand over him, and smiled beseechingly up at his lover. "Hey, Jim. Help me out a little?" 

Jim just smiled, and moved to kneel beside his helpless love. "What's the matter, Chief? Houdini getting a little rusty?" He grinned as Blair stuck his tongue out at him. 

"That is so NOT funny, man," Blair said, trying not to smile. He looked back over his head again and made one last lunge for the knife, but it was no use. Resigned he turned back to ask Jim to release him, to find the big man leaning over him, staring at his midsection. "Jim?" he asked uncertainly. "What are you looking at?" 

Jim turned his gaze from Blair's waist to meet the young man's eyes, a slow grin spreading over his features. Without answering Blair, Jim shifted his position to sit comfortably at Blair's side. He studied Blair's face, smile widening, before turning his head to eye Blair's middle again. During his struggles to reach the knife, Blair's shirt had ridden up. Jim studied the patch of bare stomach peeking out from between Blair's waistband and shirt. Then he looked back at his partner's state of helplessness, hands cuffs above his head. The big detective shook his head, smiling. This was just too good to resist. 

Blair giggled a little. "Hello? Jim, what's with you?" 

Jim smiled down at his love as he replied, "Well, Chief...." He bobbed his eyebrows at Blair, who watched in confusion as Jim turned to look his midsection again. Jim dropped his voice to a whisper, "I think I see a belly-button." 

Curiosity peaked, Blair lifted his head to follow Jim's gaze. "What are you...," Blair broke off as he saw what had captured Jim's interest. _Oh no,_ he thought. Blair looked nervously up at his lover. He knew exactly what Jim was thinking. "Jim," he said weakly, "Jim, why don't you just undo me here, so we can...," He broke off with a groan as Jim moved to straddle his thighs. "Aww Jim...," he whined. 

Jim smiled down at his love. He settled onto his knees, straddling Blair's thighs, letting most of his weight rest on the floor. He put his hands on his hips as he spoke. "Oh come on, baby. You can't possibly expect me to pass up an opportunity like this," Jim reached down and carefully rolled Blair's shirt up, baring more of his stomach, careful not to let his hands touch Blair's skin yet. He took his hands away and just sighed, studying the flat expanse of smooth, pink belly in front of him, with its sprinkling of dark hair, waiting to be tortured. "Now," Jim said thoughtfully, "What am I going to do to you?" he looked up at the ceiling, lips pursed, brow furrowed as if deep in thought. 

"Oh man, here we go again! What's up with this anyway?" Blair moaned, trying to sound bored, annoyed, anything to make Jim lose interest in what the young man knew was going to be torturous for him. Blair couldn't understand it; Jim frequently seemed to take great pleasure in exploiting the sensitivity of his belly. "Why do you have this obsession with my stomach?" 

Jim just smiled, and leaned down to quickly press his lips to Blair's. Blair's wasn't annoyed enough not to kiss him back, Jim noticed. When Jim sat back up, he cocked his head thoughtfully. "I don't know Chief," he replied. "I guess it's a fetish, eh? I just find your stomach irresistible," Jim took hold of Blair's belt loops and tugged his jeans down just a little. "I mean," he continued, "Just look at this perfect little belly-button...," Jim grinned wickedly as he stroked the tip of his index finger over Blair's navel, feeling the young man's stomach muscles begin to twitch. "The perfect centerpiece for this... beautiful... tummy...," Jim ran the fingertips of his right hand lightly over Blair's flat stomach. 

Blair gasped as Jim touched him. _Ohhhh gawd,_ he thought. Already he could feel the nerves in the skin of his belly beginning to tingle, sensitizing. He knew the more Jim touched him, the more sensitive his skin would become. Jim knew this, too. He had to, Blair reasoned; the detective had certainly done enough experiments.... 

Jim traced one fingertip in a slow, lazy figure eight over Blair's belly. He was watching his love's face every second, trying to judge which touches Blair found pleasurable, and which just annoying. It seemed that Blair was most sensitive on the little area of skin right around his navel, and also along the sides of his stomach, right in the shallow hollows between the muscles. Jim moved both hands over the muscle hollows and crept his long fingers slowly up and down the length of Blair's stomach, barely touching the skin. He let his hands travel up to Blair's chest, then back down to the waistband of his jeans. 

Blair bit his lip to keep from yelping as Jim began gently tickling the edges of his stomach. Instinctively, Blair tried to lower his arms, to try and stop the assault. It was no use, his wrists were still cuffed securely over his head. _Oh man... he's getting good at this,_ he thought, feeling his heart beginning to pound. His chest was starting to heave with each breath as Jim's fingers ran in their maddening path over his skin. _Ohhh my GAWD!_ Blair began to writhe a little under Jim as the big man's fingertips traveled up.... Down.... Up.... Down.... Up, to just below his chest muscles.... Down, to the softer skin just under the edge of his jeans. Blair felt Jim peel up the edge of the dark denim with one hand. Then he arched as Jim suddenly scraped his fingernails along the skin under Blair's waistband. Blair couldn't hold back a short little moan of pleasure as the touch started the muscles of his abdomen fluttering. 

Jim trailed his fingernails lightly over the warm, soft skin of his lover, and grinned at the little aroused sound that met his ears. "Ah, does that feel good?" Jim asked softly, in a voice like warm honey. He watched Blair's face as he repeated the last touch, gently scratching the skin of Blair's waistline. Blair moaned again, arching. "Yes, I can see that it does," the big man added, smiling. "You have the most sensitive tummy I've ever seen, Blair." Jim kept his voice low, soft, letting the words rumble out of his chest like gentle thunder as he laid the waistband back against Blair's skin. 

Blair was trembling, eyes closed, lips parted slightly. His upper lip and brow were beaded with sweat, and a similar sheen of dampness was rising on the flat surface of his belly. He felt Jim let go of his jeans and sighed, grateful for the moment of relief. Then he felt a single fingertip stroke lightly across his midriff, and heard Jim mutter. He opened his eyes and saw his big lover frowning. "Wh... wh...what's... the mat... matter?" Blair said, voice shaking from the trembling of his body. Jim met his eyes, and held up his finger. 

"You're sweating," Jim said. Blair just looked at him, face flushed, panting slightly. Jim thought he'd never seen him looking quite so... agitated, and he forced down a smile. 

"S... s... so what?" Blair whispered huskily. 

Jim reached down and tried to drag his fingertips over the surface of Blair's belly, but the new dampness made his fingers stick and bump unevenly over the skin. He looked into Blair's eyes as he asked, "There... you see? That wasn't nearly as nice, was it?" 

Blair breathed hard for a moment, feeling his racing heart beginning to slow to normal. Jim was right; that last touch hadn't been nearly as... arousing. He shook his head feebly. _(Good,_ he thought. Now Jim would grow bored, and turn him loose... or so he thought. He watched as Jim carefully climbed off his thighs and stood up. 

"Be right back," Jim said softly, with a smile. He moved past Blair and into the kitchen, where he began rummaging through the cupboards. After a minute, he found what he was searching for, and moved from the kitchen into Blair's study. 

Blair arched his head back, trying to see where his lover was going, what he was doing. He had a feeling that Jim wasn't finished with him, and the feeling increased as he saw Jim disappear into his study. It had been Blair's bedroom, until the anthropologist had started spending his nights sleeping beside Jim in the big bed. Now Blair used the room to work, to study, and to store things. He had no idea what Jim might be hunting around for in there, but he knew it was going to be something else to use to torment him. After a moment he heard Jim's voice ring out. 

"AHA! I thought they were in here somewhere," 

Blair looked up as Jim came back out of the room, smiling, to stand over him. Jim's hands were loaded with a number of items, which Blair was too distracted to identify. He watched with wide eyes as Jim set his burdens down, then stood and studied his still- helpless partner. Jim stroked his chin, apparently thinking. He looked around, and his eyes settled on something in the livingroom. Jim snapped his fingers and moved out of Blair line of sight again. 

Jim went over to the couch and grabbed one of the small throw pillows. He studied it for a moment, then glanced to where Blair lay. Jim was a little unsure about what he was considering; it was something one of his girlfriends had done to him eons ago. Jim had found the experience to be quite enjoyable, but would Blair? 

Blair was looking back over his head at the Swiss Army Knife again, which lay teasingly out of reach. He turned his gaze back toward Jim as the big man came to stand beside him, holding a throw pillow. He watched as Jim knelt beside him, and was surprised as the big man leaned down to gently touch his lips to Blair's. Blair let his lips part, as Jim's tongue swept through his mouth. As their lips separated, Jim's eyes were concerned, unsure. "Jim?" Blair asked faintly. 

Jim studied Blair's face. After a moment, he smiled, and carefully slid his hand under the small of Blair's back. Blair was startled, and jumped a little. "It's OK," Jim soothed softly. "Just lie still, you know I would never hurt you," Jim pushed the pillow under the small of Blair's back, and removed his hand. "Is that comfortable?" He asked, reaching to stroke Blair's cheek. "It doesn't hurt your back at all?" 

Blair shifted a little, feeling the pillow under him. "No...," he said. He watched as Jim moved to straddle his thighs again. "What's it for?" he asked. Jim smiled at him as he reached for something beyond Blair's sight. 

Jim picked up the tin of cornstarch, and reached in for a handful. He sprinkled it liberally over Blair's stomach, then laid the tin aside. He began to rub his hands over Blair's stomach, covering his lover's skin with a thin layer of the fine powder. "The pillow will keep your back arched, which will keep the skin of your stomach stretched tight," Jim explained as he dusted his hands off on his pants. "The tighter your skin is, the more sensitive it will be," Jim added with a grin. "And the cornstarch will keep the sweat from making my fingers stick to you." 

Blair stared up at his lover in amazement. "What, did you take a CLASS on this or something?" 

Jim laughed. "No, this is something Kelli showed me one night." He looked down at his love, back arched, belly covered in cornstarch. "Are you all right?" he asked softly. When Blair nodded, Jim reached down with both hands and ran his fingertips down his belly. 

Blair bit back a cry, arching his head back as his stomach flinched sharply. Jim wasn't kidding; the cornstarch, plus the pillow beneath him made every one of the nerves in his belly come alive under the big man's fingers. Jim's fingertips trailed down the full length of his belly, over his navel, down to his jeans, then began to move back up. Blair moaned, straining unconsciously against the handcuffs as Jim's fingers began to spider slowly over his skin, not missing a centimeter. 

"How's that?" Jim asked, grinning at the delicious way Blair squirmed beneath him. "Is that nice?" He moved his left hand from Blair's skin to pick up something he'd found in the study, keeping the fingers of his right in constant motion against his Guide's belly. "Do you like that?" he asked, softly. 

Blair's voice was strangled as he answered, "Y... yes...,"   
  


* * *

  


"Good," Jim said. "Look, remember when you found this the last time we went camping?" 

Blair opened his eyes to see what Jim was holding up. A hawk's feather. Blair closed his eyes again with a groan. He'd found the feather while out on a hike in the mountains. God, that was ages ago, before Lash, before.... (Ohhhhhhh GAWD!!! Blair's thoughts were broken as Jim dragged the tip of the feather in a slow circle around his navel. 

Jim smiled at the flush that covered Blair's face as he touched the feather to his skin. Jim traced the feather around Blair's navel, using the stiff vanes at the tip to ruffle the dark, downy hair surrounding the little hollow. "Does this feel good?" he asked, voice low and warm again. 

Blair couldn't speak right then, but he managed to nod. He panted as Jim began to stroke the feather in a pattern across his abdomen. _I'm going to go nuts...,_

Jim moved the feather across the base of Blair's belly, tickling a path across and then up Blair's side. He tickled the skin over each of the ribs, then across and down the other side, and down to Blair's jeans. "Do you want me to stop?" Jim asked sweetly. 

Blair was gasping, feeling that he would very soon black out if this went on much longer. He couldn't seem to get his throat to operate to answer Jim. A moment later the movement of the feather stopped. Blair waited, but nothing happened. Cautiously, he opened his eyes to find Jim watching him intently. 

Jim held the feather just above Blair's skin, not quite touching him. He waited for Blair to answer him. This was one of the things Kelli had taught him; every once in awhile you had to make sure the 'victim' was getting enough oxygen, to prevent them from blacking out. One way of doing this was to force the person to answer a simple question. If they could speak, they were breathing. Jim waited, then asked again, softly, "Blair.... Do you want me to stop now?" 

Blair took a deep, revitalizing breath. Did he want Jim to stop? His stomach muscles were doing cartwheels, his heart was thundering, and his jeans were becoming very tight... 

"Blair.... " Jim's voice was developing a note of concern. 

"No!" Blair managed to growl, finally. He saw a relieved smile of satisfaction pass over Jim's face. Then he squeezed his eyes shut again as the feather continued where it had left off, stroking relentlessly over his midriff, tickling circles down the center of his belly, then moving again to his navel. Blair's head arched back, chest heaving. 

Jim continued to torture his young lover with the hawk's feather for a few minutes more, admiring the aroused flush on the sweet face, the way the long dark lashes fluttered as Blair's brow furrowed. He felt his own excitement building as he studied Blair's lips, deep pink with desire, parted just enough to show Jim a glimpse of the perfect, white teeth inside. As he watched, Blair's tongue darted out to quickly wet his lips, and Jim very nearly came right then and there. He wisely turned his gaze away from his love's face at that point; it was Blair's turn to be pleasured, he thought sternly. His own satisfaction cold wait, right now all that mattered was Blair. Jim moved the feather in long sweeps from Blair's waistband to his ribcage, then decided it was about time for another safety check. "Are you enjoying this, Blair?" he asked softly. 

Blair's brain registered the question, and processed the information. The body reminded the brain that failure to answer would result in a ceasing of the pleasure. Operating basically on autopilot, Blair gasped "Yyyyyesssss!" 

Jim grinned. "I had a feeling you were," he chuckled. He laid the feather aside now, and sifted another layer of cornstarch over Blair's skin. "Tummy's getting sweaty again," he whispered tenderly, sweeping his hands in smooth circles to spread the cornstarch out evenly. "Are you sure you don't want to stop?" he asked, picking up the next implement of torture. 

Blair's eyes opened then, and stared straight into Jim's. "Don't... even... THINK... about.. stopping, man!" he snarled, gritting his teeth a little. His eyes slid shut again. 

Jim chuckled, and said quickly "OK, OK.... Down boy...," He studied the item in his hand; a round-bristled, sable paintbrush. Jim had bought a few brushes and some paint a few years ago, intending to take up a hobby to try and reduce his stress. He'd never been terribly interested, though, and had packed the mostly-unused supplies on the shelf in the closet of what had once been the spare room. Now he ran his fingertip over the soft, stiff hairs that made up the brush. The brush was thick, about half an inch in diameter, just the right size to..., 

"AH!" Blair yelped, as something new touched his sensitized skin. He opened one eye and saw Jim stroking... _what was that?_ A PAINTBRUSH over his stomach now. Blair closed his eyes again. Where the hell did he get a _Ohhhhhh, sweet Jaysus!_ paintbrush? 

Jim painted invisible patterns with the brush as Blair's writhing increased. Jim brushed the soft sable along the skin above Blair's jeans, noting the considerable bulge under the dark fabric. His young lover couldn't take much more teasing. Jim trailed the brush back and forth across his love's stomach, moving slowly upward toward the ribs. When he reached Blair's ribcage, he swept the brush gently along the curve of each rib. He followed the bones down on the left side, then moved the brush up the center, stroking across the solar plexus, to give the ribs on the right a similar treatment. Blair continued to moan and twist under him. "Bet you never knew I tried painting, once," Jim whispered quietly. "Did you?" 

Blair's whole body felt electrified, possessed. Every nerve in his belly tingled now, the pillow beneath his back stretching his skin under the touch of the soft brush. Blair was panting, sweat pouring down his face, teeth clenched. "No..." he ground out, hoping it was the right answer. He knew Jim had asked him something, but he was far too gone to really comprehend the question. It must've been the correct thing to say, because Jim continued to move the brush over his skin. Now, he felt the stiff bristles trail straight down the center of his stomach to his navel. Then the sable began painting tiny circles around and around his navel. Then there was a moment of relief as the touch was removed. Blair took the opportunity to take a deep breath. 

Jim watched Blair, eyes full of love and desire as the young man panted, pressing his hips up against Jim's thighs. Jim groaned as he felt the rod of iron in his lover's jeans poking him. In response, Jim changed his grip on the paintbrush. 

Blair waited for the touch of the bristles on his skin again. Then he strained against the handcuffs with a low cry as Jim reversed the paintbrush, and ran the rounded tip of the handle over each of the super-sensitive hollows on either side of Blair's abs. "Uuuuuhhhnnnnng!" 

Jim scraped the tip of the brush's handle over the edges of Blair's stomach muscles, grinning as they quivered under the touch. Jim now followed the path of the paintbrush with his fingers, then lay the paintbrush aside, and followed his fingers with his tongue. 

"OHHHHHhhh!!!" Blair wailed as Jim licked his stomach. "Oh gawd!!!" The tongue moved to his navel, dipping inside, then circling it, leaving a wet trail. The tongue moved higher, licking in a straight path over Blair's midriff, teasing the skin covering his ribs. "Jimmmm... please!" Blair gasped. He needed Jim to... he wanted Jim to.... 

Jim ran his tongue over Blair's ribs, then began to trail long, soft kisses over the warm skin. He touched his lips to every inch of his love's ribcage, then began to move lower. He trailed his lips in a straight path down the center of Blair's stomach, while running his fingertips up and down Blair's sides. The young man was squirming more and more as Jim's lips and fingers came to the top of Blair's jeans. Jim swept his lips and tongue back and forth over the warm skin, softer than velvet. He reached one hand to gently ease the zipper open, and carefully released Blair's arousal from his boxers, other hand now dancing circles around his love's navel again. 

Blair whimpered as he felt Jim undo his pants, then reach through his boxers to touch him. His belly was contracting away from the fingertips playing at his navel. He was getting close. Then Blair clenched his fists, straining, arching, pushing his hips up against Jim as he felt his lover take him into his mouth. "OH GAWD, JIM!!!!!!" Blair roared as Jim slid him in, out, in, out. Blair's hips bucked twice, and he came with a great gasp. "Ohhhhhh...," he moaned, as his body began to wind down. "Ohhhh... ohhhh, Jim... I love you...," Blair whispered, closing his eyes in exhaustion. He felt Jim gently tucking him back into his pants. 

Jim licked his lips, savoring the taste of his lover as he carefully redid Blair's pants. He reached to stroke Blair's trembling stomach one more time, then gently pulled the shirt back down over the soft, warm skin. He crawled up to Blair's head and placed a gentle kiss on his temple. "I love you, too," he whispered against Blair's ear, stroking the sweaty hair back from his love's forehead. Blair smiled, eyes still shut in ecstasy. Jim reached into his pocket, drew out the key to his handcuffs, and carefully freed his lover. Blair was limp and exhausted, so Jim gathered him tenderly into his arms, stood, and carried him across to the stairs, covering his face with soft kisses. As he started up the stairs, Blair's eyes opened, and he smiled up at Jim. He wrapped an arm around Jim's back and snuggled his face against his big lover's chest as the detective carried him up to the big bed. Jim laid him down there, stripped off his clothes, and tucked him into bed. 

Blair lay there, naked between the cool sheets. He felt the last waves of his orgasm fading away, like the last rays of a sunset. He heard Jim undressing, then felt the big man slide into bed beside him. Blair snuggled into the strong, protective arms and pressed his face against Jim's shoulder. "Thank you, Jim," he whispered. He felt he had to say it; that had been the most erotic thing he had ever been through. 

"My pleasure, baby," Jim replied, nuzzling his face into Blair's hair. 

They were silent for a long, long time, just feeling the closeness, the love between them, listening to the music of each other's breathing. They were nearly asleep, when Jim's voice said, softly, 

"Did you still want to have sex?" 

They were both laughing as they drifted off to sleep.   
  


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